Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

Rope Tattoo

He had a tattoo. It was one of the first things I noticed about him. Honestly, it’s the first thing I notice about most people. But there was something that caught my eye from across the room.

Rope. It was so close to my lace that I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It weaved around his arm in this interesting pattern. There were even items and symbols within it that I couldn’t make out from across the room, just like my cameo pieces. No wonder he wore a sleeveless shirt under this suit jacket.

All the Doms finished hanging up their jackets and began mingling around the bar getting drinks. I stood with the other subs as we finished removing our clothes. Some collared subs walked back over to their Doms for direction; one woman crawled. Those of us without a partner sat together. We chatted about how good the dinner was, and what new sex blogs we’re reading. It was nice to sit and chat with them, but I kept an eye on the tattooed Dom.

He didn’t appear to have a sub, the was sitting with a few other guys at the bar. I kept watching him and telling myself to go talk to him. My confidence just wasn’t letting me get out of the chair. One of the other subs saw me staring and encouraged me to at least go say ‘hi’. She didn’t recognize him as a regular. I told her that I really like his tattoo; she told me that that was a good start. I felt like a teenager wanting to tell a boy I liked him.

I’m sure it was because I was staring, but one of the Doms he was sitting with noticed me and pointed me out. I couldn’t avoid it any longer. I thought about crawling, like the one earlier sub, but I thought that would be a bit too much for an initial meeting. So I set my drink down (luckily just water as I’m sure alcohol would have made me even more nervous) and walked over to the bar. He had turned toward me when the Dom pointed out my staring, but I still bowed my head as I approached.

“Hello. My name is Rye. I really like your tattoo.”

“Hello Rye. My name is Stephen. I like your tattoo as well. Is that why you were watching me?” I was pretty sure the shade of red that my face turned was evidence enough, but nodded anyway. He smiled. “Would you like to come sit with us Rye? We were actually just talking about Master/slave tattoos.”

I smiled and knelt down on the floor. If I’m honest, about half out of respect and half because there wasn’t an empty chair. Stephen smiled at my gesture and brushed a strand of hair out of my face. It was very sweet and I could feel nervousness subside a bit. The conversation quickly returned to lock and key tattoos. I just sat and listened for awhile, but when Stephen asked my opinion I had an answer ready.

“Kink tattoos in general really appeal to me. I have a tattoo that represents my submission as a whole, but I would be hesitant to get a name, kink or otherwise, tattooed on me. I prefer symbols to represent a person or relationship, rather than a name. You can remember a period in your life for it’s good points, but sometimes a name can carry a negative weight.”

“See Stephen, if you were smart like her you wouldn’t have had to get that huge cover up on your arm to remove your ex-wife’s name.” A few of the other Doms chuckled and my eyes went wide. I was so afraid that I had offended him with my opinionated mouth. I sighed at my own stupidity and waited to be sent back to my sub’s table.

Instead, Stephen reached down and rubbed my shoulder. When I looked up he nodded to let me know he wasn’t mad. He traced one of my larger cameos and followed the lace down my arm.

“Rye, would you like to get a drink and private table with me?”

Considering that I thought I had just offended him, I balked for a brief moment. His face was so kind, however, that that concern vanished quickly. “That would be wonderful. Could I have a cream soda please, I have to drive home?”

Stephen ordered our drinks, helped me up, and led me to an empty table across the room.

“I didn’t even know they had cream soda here.” He said as he pulled out a chair to let me know that I didn’t have to kneel on the floor.

“Yeah, they get it from a local brewery that also makes a root beer. It’s quite good. One of the bartenders recommended it when I said I was tired of being the DD who always got diet pepsi, now it’s all I order.”

“Sounds like you could teach me a lot of the hidden gems of this place. How long have you been coming here?”

“About three years. A previous partner brought me for demo sessions, but when he moved on and stopped coming I stayed. I like the community here.”

“I’ve been coming to Dom meetings here for a few months, but this is my first member dinner.”

“Well, I hope you’ll keep coming. Assuming, of course, I stop making a fool of myself with my comments and opinions.”

“Don’t even worry about it. It was my own fault for getting her name tattooed on me in the first place. It was supposed to be a surprise for her and she hated it. Guess I should have know then.”

“Whoever did your cover-up did a great job. It looks amazing. I have a huge thing for rope, so it caught my eye immediately.”

“You don’t say. Well, you should see some of my other tattoos.” He leaned back in his chair and took a drink.

“Yes, please.” I grinned as he smiled at me. A jolt of excitement and nervousness ran through me. I set my drink down on the table as my hands were starting to shake a bit.

I really wish I had asked for something a bit stronger than cream soda.

To be continued…

See what others are writing about tattoos this week by clicking below.

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

Flying High

For some it’s purely about altitude, but for me it’s about the feeling of weightlessness.

Bound, hooded, and flying high for his pleasure.

Rye in rope bondage, hooded and dangled for view.

 

Check out how everyone else is flying this week for Wicked Wednesday!

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

**So as not to scare or give the wrong impression, I am not, in fact, being suspended in the picture above. Please use caution when using any form of bondage or suspension.

A Strange Train Journey

“Have a safe trip. See you soon baby.”

“See you soon, Sir. I’m just climbing on the train now.”

“Okay. I’m going into a meeting right now. I’ll check in when we take a break. Have your phone close.”

“Yes, Sir.” Lucy hung up the phone and climbed into the second last train car. There were only a few people seated, so she chose a seat in an empty row and set her bag down. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the seat next to her. The list of things that Sir wanted her to bring for the weekend took up most of her suitcase, so her laptop and all her toiletries were shoved in her purse. If she was going to keep making these trips, she really need to invest in a larger suitcase that she could check.

Sitting next to the window Lucy settled down for the three hour train ride. It really wasn’t too bad of a trip, and the quiet time to work made it infinitely better than driving. Pulling out her laptop she pulled up her latest story and began to write. A few miles down the track an attendant came to check her ticket, but other than she was left in peace.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?”

Lucy was jostled out of her train of thought as she realized the gentleman was talking to her. She grabbed her bag and apologized. But as she did she notice that the car was not really all that full. There were plenty of open seats. Why did he have to sit there and make her move her bag? However, it wasn’t worth being rude, so she smiled as he sat down next to her.

“How are you today?”

“Fine, thank you. And you?”

“I’m pretty good. Where are you headed?”

“Philadelphia.”

“Ahh. The city of brotherly love.”

Lucy just stared back at him, unsure what to say to that. No one had ever bothered her on the train, especially not for chit chat. Normally having her face in her computer was enough to tell people to leave her be.

“What takes you to Philly? Work?” Lucy sighed and closed her computer. She wasn’t going to be able to get any writing done like this.

“I’m visiting a friend for the weekend.”

“That’s nice.”

Lucy’s phone buzzed. She grabbed like the lifeline it was.

How are you doing, baby?

Alright.

Getting time to write?

I wish.

What’s the matter?

I just have a guy sitting next to me who wants to chat. It’s really distracting.

Is he harassing you? Can you move?

No, he’s harmless. Just chatty. It’s fine. It’s only another hour or so.

“Talking to your boyfriend?”

Lucy wanted to say it was none of his business, but thought better of it. “My mother.”

“Oh. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t he worry about you taking trains by yourself?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I have never had an unsatisfactory or unsafe experience on a train.” Until now, she thought as she looked out the window.

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

“Do you want to know how old I am?”

“I guess, sure.”

“Thirty-three.”

“Same age as my older brother.” She wanted to make up some lie about her brother being a marine or something to try and intimidate him. Maybe this guy was just lonely, there was no harm in letting him ramble.

“So how long have you and your boyfriend been together?”

“Six months, but we have been friends a lot longer.”

“How did you meet?”

“Online actually.” The name of the kink community website certainly wasn’t relevant.

“That’s nice.”

Lucy took the moment of awkward silence to check her phone again. No new messages, Sir must have gone back to his meeting. Only a few stops left, thank heavens.

“Does your boyfriend live in Philly?”

“Yes. Actually, I need to get off at the next stop, can you please let me out.” Lucy grabbed her back and squeezed past the walking 20 questions game. Gathering herself she wandered to the back of the car to wait for the next stop. At least she might be able to write on the way home. Maybe headphones would help her look even more anti-social.

The train slowed as they came into the station and nearly jumped out of the car. She walked down to the luggage claim to get her bag. Luckily, her weekend bag was bright green and easy to spot.

As she turned to head toward the parking lot she spotted Sir walking toward her. She smiled as he grinned at her. Then she saw who he was walking with. It was the incessantly chatty man from the train! He started laughing at the obviously shocked face she wore.

She walked up to the pair of them.

“You!”

“Me.” He grinned. The man turned back to Sir. “Anyway, she seems lovely.” He looked at Lucy and smiled. “I would love to play you guys tomorrow night. I will text you when my training session is over.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped. The man shook Sir’s hand.

“Oh yeah, ” He turned back. “She will need to be punished tomorrow for lying and telling me that you were her mother.” He and Sir both laughed as he turned to walk across the parking lot to his car.

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

Workshop Pet

He handed me his empty coffee cup and got up from the table. I walked over to the sink to rinse it before putting it in the dishwasher. He stepped out of the kitchen and came back a few seconds later with my green leash. I was pretty sure I squealed with excitement as I ran over to him.

“Would you like to come to the shop with me for awhile pet?”

“Yes please, Sir.”

“You promise to be good and stay on your bed for me?”

“Yes, Sir.” I put my on my best innocent face and smiled sweetly. The last thing I wanted was to be left in the house alone.

“Good girl.” Click. The leash snapped onto my collar and I fell in step behind him as we headed out the back door.

The walk across the backyard to the workshop was quick. Sir had gone to the hardware store earlier in the week, so I knew he would be itching to get to work. I had hoped he would allow me to come and watch. As we approached the door to the shop I bent down and got on all fours. Sir likes that I have chosen to honor the workshop by always crawling as I enter. In fact, aside from one sexy interlude where I was thrown over a work bench, I was always on my knees or lower in the building.

Sir turned and smiled at me as he opened the door and I crawled in. The workshop was a remodeled three car garage. Sir had put a lot of work into making it meet his needs. Now there was room for all his equipment, his materials, and finished work that was ready to sell. Sir walked over and clipped the leash to the ring he had added to the side of his work bench. I nuzzled his leg as I moved onto my bed underneath his design desk.

There were two big tables at the ‘work’ end of the shop. One for design and detail work and one for this lathe and saws. When he first started allowing me to come out with him he bought me a bed to sit in. This was to be sure I stayed safe and not get underfoot. It also allowed for me to be able to give foot massages and other ‘services’ while he drew plans or did bookkeeping. The bed was made of soft minky material and I even had a blanket that stayed in the shop. He had also built a little shelf for a few toys and books so I didn’t feel ignored while he was working.

Sir walked away from the desk to grab some wood samples and paper. I sat cross-legged on my bed and enjoyed just watching him focus on his work. He soon sat on the stool directly in front of me and began to draw. The radio was tuned to the local rock station and it was all I could not to sing a long. I gave Sir’s pants two small tugs. The music volume lowered.

“Yes, pet?”

“May I service you while you work?” I watched the bulge in his pants twitch as he considered my request.

“You may, but I have to do some machine work in a bit, so when I say stop you must not pout.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

I reached for the button holding his jeans. He scooted forward on the stool so that I could release his cock and remain under the desk. My request must have pleased him as he was throbbing as I greedily took his cock from his jeans and began licking and kissing him. The smell of him mixed with the smell of shop was such a turn on for me. I took him deep in my throat and he moaned over the music. I wanted to take my time and savor him, but I also knew that this, while pleasant, was distracting him from his work. So while I massaged and licked him, I also took him deep and tried to push him toward orgasm.

I wanted him to cum. To hear his moans as I helped him find release. He didn’t always let me do this when I came out here, so I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. I continued my pace as his left hand reached under the desk to push my head further on his cock. His grip on my hair tightened as his muscles began tiny thrusts into my mouth. I ran my tongue under his shaft and licked down to his balls. He groaned and with two hard thrusts emptied himself down my throat.

Holding my mouth still over his cock I rolled my tongue around him as he continued to twitch. I could feel his cum sliding slowly down my throat. We sighed in unison as he pulled out of my mouth and zipped his jeans back up.

“Good girl. Thank you for your service pet.”

“The pleasure is mine, Sir.”

“Are you going to take a nap, or can I turn the music back up?”

“I left one of my Judy Blume books out here, so I think I will read. Please feel free to listen to whatever pleases you. Thank you for asking.”

“Good girl.” He reached down and caressed my cheek as I settled down in my bed to read. The music turned up. Fat Bottomed Girls made me smile as I rubbed Sir’s leg one last time before curling up and enjoying his presence for the afternoon.

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

A Ghostly Moan

“Is someone there?” Alice looked around. She hoped that no one would answer. It had been a long day and the idea of lounging on the couch naked and unwinding to some porn sounded lovely. After another beat of silence Alice decided the coast was clear. Her purse hit the counter as she quickly unbuttoned her pants and walked into the living room. Suzanne and Mattie were supposed to be working late, but she double checked that the front door was locked, just in case. A few extra seconds warning was better than nothing; not that she was ashamed, but no point making things more awkward than necessary.

Alice ran to her room and grabbed her favorite toy and a DVD she hadn’t watched in ages. She stopped for a towel in the hall closet and popped the DVD in on her way to the couch. Laying out the towel to save any uncomfortable explanations later, she laid down on it and waited for the movie menu.

It was an old porno that she has bought from one of those Lion’s Den roadside rests on a dare in college. Everyone else on the road-trip probably assumed she had thrown it away. But it had, instead, become one of her favorites. She would fully admit to it being cheesy, gratuitous lesbian porn. Made for men, obviously. However, the girls were hot and watching women go down on each other is always amazing.

Pressing play Alice lay back against the cushion and grabbed her trusty vibrator. Trying to ease herself in she just rubbed her clit with it turned off as she watched the horrible opening dialogue.

Then she heard a notice behind her. She quickly turned off the movie and hid the vibrator behind her thigh.  Laying in silence she waited for someone to walk in, but no one came. Alice chalked it up to hearing things; she really was too tense these days.

Quickly turning the porn back on she lost patience with herself. She wanted to enjoy herself, but that wasn’t going to happen until she had at least one orgasm and could fully relax. Grabbing the vibrator she turned it on it’s medium setting and began rubbing her outer lips. The women in the film were moaning now and so was she. She was practically dripping when she started moving the dildo in and out of her cunt. For her it wasn’t really about the penetration, it was about hitting her entrance and clit at the same time. Soon she found a good rhythm and came hard. Her moans drowned out those of the blond on the tv as the week’s stress was finally released.

After she stopped twitching Alice turned the vibrator speed to low and just watched the two women suckle each other’s nipples. She knew she wanted another, and watching this would certainly help. Closing her eyes for a moment she sunk even more into the soft couch. Then a low moan made her open her eyes. Neither of women’s voices were that deep. Where did it come from?

She paused the video again and only heard silence. These odd interruptions were disrupting her masturbation time and she wasn’t at all pleased. Getting up, she walked naked into the kitchen, swinging her vibrator (still on, by the way) in her hand. Silence filled the kitchen as she got a glass of water and wandered back into the living room. The DVD had paused in an amazing freeze frame of a tongue mid-lick of a plump pink clit. It was so arousing Alice didn’t even press play. Instead, she lay back down and used her one hand on her nipple along with the vibrator. The photo alone was enough to bring her her second orgasm.

Alice lay on the couch; a puddle of relaxed and happy goo. She considered going for a third, but wanted to enjoy the endorphins for a bit first. Then she heard another moan followed by a thump. She shot up on the couch, but nothing had fallen or was out of place.

Alice growled. She refused to get freaked out over nothing. Hitting play again she returned to her nipple and clit. This time she turned the vibrator to it’s highest setting. Before things got any freakier she was going to try and shatter herself. Thrusting the vibrator in deep and then slowly pulling it out across her lips to her clit she was soon a quivering mess. Again she thought she heard another moan, but she pushed through with determination toward her orgasm. Watching the two women sixty-nine each other was going to put her over the edge. She put the vibrator against her clit and pushed hard while pinching her nipple until it hurt. All three women moaned together, but Alice was only one to shatter. She squirted all over the towel as she came in waves against the vibrator.

The women in the film kept at it, but Alice was spent. She lay in a gooey mass on the couch for several minutes until the calm was firmly cemented into her brain. When she got up the towel was soaked as well as a few drops that had escaped it’s coverage. Giving the couch a quick wipe with a dry part of the towel, she hoped it would dry before anyone would notice.

Walking toward her room to put the towel in the hamper and throw on some grunge clothes she stepped on something sticky. When she rubbed her foot and smelled her hand in an effort to determine the substance it smelled like cum. Not from her, but from a man. Her knowledge and experience with semen was limited, but she was nearly positive that was what this was. However, for it to be this ‘fresh’ the owner of said semen would had to been in the house quiet recently.

Once in her room, Alice put on a cami and some panties. She heard her phone ring in the living room and ran to catch it. It was just a notification of a text message from Becca.

Hey Slut! Did you get some release this afternoon?

Yeah, very much needed squirty orgasms 🙂

Not sure a needed to know that, but yeah!

Are you busy? Could you come over?

I don’t want to see your squirty orgasms. But yeah, let me drop off the shopping and I’ll over. What’s wrong?

I think a male ghost jerked off to me masturbating.

….I’ll bring wine

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

Taking Positive Steps, Skips, and Jumps

I remember at time when I was pretty positive I was asexual. I not only didn’t feel attractive, but I didn’t think that my attractions to others were normal either. It was difficult for me to think positively about sex or relationships, and that led to several bad choices and hurt feelings. I wish I could say this was a singular occurrence, but I often look at my writing aspirations the same way. I tend to write in an odd voice and cadence (much how I speak) and that’s not for everyone. Funnily enough, I would describe my current sex drive and tastes the same way; odd, and not for everyone.

Recalling those times and feelings is painful. Only in the last few years have I really started to feel like a sexual person. I enjoyed intimacy with my husband, but it certainly wasn’t something I craved. Now I have a completely different prospective to what sex can offer me as an individual and to my relationships. And I think that that has, in turn, affected my writing in a positive way.
As I gain more confidence in my sexual and writing life, I’ve started to step out and move away from the negative and painful memories. My polyamory has been a big step towards that. It’s not always easy (I’m sure there will be lots more Poly Problem posts), but it has show me my own strength. Even just the idea that I am allowed to have needs in my sexual relationships has been quite freeing.
My writing is seeing a growth as well. I don’t always get the time to focus on it as much as I would like. Family, full-time job, and my depression take over from time to time. But I have taken some steps to improve that. And, I’m even starting to recognize and accept my own talent. I started a Patreon account this week. It’s nothing that I would have ever considered a few years ago. I never would have had the confidence to ask people to pay for my work. The idea of selling myself like that was hard to wrap my head around, and I thought about it for awhile before deciding it was the right move. The money could allow me to advance my writing and continue to make steps towards publishing. The idea of being a full-time writer may not be in my future, but still consider this a positive step.
As much as the recollection of my past is difficult, it continues to strengthen my resolve. The idea of ever being ashamed of my sexuality or interest in writing erotica again has faded. And hopefully my patreon will do well and I can continue to grow in both my sexual and writing experiences.
In other words, you’re stuck with me for awhile 🙂

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

Sometimes Less is More in the Dating Scene

I’ll preface this with saying that I don’t currently have (or have ever had) a dating profile online. A comment on my Fetlife about how I am looking for a play partner is about as close as it gets. I hate talking about myself in any sort of advertising way. However, for the purposes of trying new things I created a hypothetical ‘dating profile’. It would read:

Sexy 30-Something Looking For Fun

Married, hetero-flexible submissive looking for a poly friend with benefits. Play-dates and romantic evenings possible. Looking local, but will travel. Non-smoker a must.*

Short, sweet and reasonably vague. Isn’t that how they are supposed to read? I look at it like meeting a first date in person. You don’t want to scare them away, but you want to make sure that boundaries are laid. It really doesn’t provide the whole story though.

What about an ‘It’s all on the table’ version?

Submissive Mother Looking For Emotional Support with Sex

I’m a married, hetero-flexible mother looking for a break from her children and daily responsibilities. I love to give and receive oral sex. General submissive who also falls under labels of little, human pet, and masochist given the right Dom. Would love the right partner to spoil me and let me be myself. I suffer from depression and anxiety, but I do love dogs and am completely addicted to coffee. Big nerd who likes body hair, tattoos and people who love food. I don’t generally wear make-up and will always choose sweats over dressing up. Very high sex drive who also loves to cuddle. If you’re brave enough to give me a chance, I’ll try to be less crazy in person as I seem on paper. No promises though. Non-smoker a must.*

See, there’s something about the shorter one that makes me think I’d get more responses.

 

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

 

*Unless it’s cigars. I don’t know why, but I love the smell of cigar smoke. Sexy as hell.

Why 69 is a bad math equation for me

The idea of 69ing is hot and magical. A way to take oral sex to the next level of giving pleasure while working toward your own climax. There is almost something more intimate to me than standard intercourse. Something about having your mouth on someone’s genitals that takes things to a different level. That’s always the approach that I start with anyway.

Somehow the experience gets lost in translation for me. It always sounds hot. Naked bodies intertwined with tongues. Fluids and moans in a race for orgasmic bliss. See, doesn’t that sound amazing? It never works out this way for me though. I think that may be because it’s hard for me to focus on the multiple sensations. I am so engrossed in making my partner cum, that it’s nearly impossible for me for relax enough to orgasm myself. So I intently throw everything at getting an orgasm out of them. It’s not like I don’t enjoy myself. It certainly feels good. And it’s an activity that I rarely turn down. I mean, it lets me suck on a cock and get my clit licked, what’s wrong with that?

Maybe I just need to change my approach. Do more people use 69ing for foreplay? If an orgasm isn’t the goal then maybe the focus could be more evenly spread. I just need to back up and enjoy the experience. That could be a parent thing too. Generally we feel rushed to orgasm as quickly as possible as the knock of the door can happen at any time. Though that seems like a cop-out for a feeling I’ve had regarding this activity since college.

Perhaps more practice would offer a solution to this problem. Maybe a 696 or 969 would help me figure out the exact issue. Several rounds of experiments will need to be undertaken. Anyone interested in helping me with this math?

See how everyone else feels about the art of 69ing and meeting of the bodies and minds this week.

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

Kink of the Week logo

The Threesome Third Wheel

Rye as a third with Jack and Jill.

As Molly was nice enough to use one of my Sinful Sunday photos for this topic, I feel terrible that I am waiting until the last day to get my piece posted. But I was excited that I could use it to discuss a fun, romantic experience that I hope to have again for Wicked Wednesday. Maybe next Valentine’s day. 🙂

I think threesomes are wonderful things. I’ve only had one threesome experience so far, though two nights in a row. Jack and Jill are a wonderful couple and I couldn’t have fantasized a better first encounter. At the time though, I was a nervous mess. Here was a couple that a) had had several previous threesomes, b) had an amazing physical connection on their own, and c) already knew all the right moves and tricks to please the other. So I was this third wheel coming in trying to play catch up and learn as quickly as possible.

Admittedly, there is something exciting about that third wheel experience. It’s new and I think adds to the pleasure of the evening. That doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t love to try a threesome with my husband or Jack and a third unknown person. I imagine there is a comfort in knowing and completely trusting one person going into that adventure. Personally, I think it would make me more confident in my actions. Knowing that I had the support and could be certain of pleasuring at least one of us would make me more likely to take charge. I would act on that urge to tell him to fuck me while I sucked on her clit, rather than just wishing one of them would mention it.

I think that is the general third wheel fear, at least for me. This couple knows each other’s buttons and tells to ensure the pleasure of the other. The third is just spit-balling. If one could relax and go with the flow, I’m sure that would help. I’m just sort of an anxious person when it comes to sex, so I was lucky to have an amazing couple who was patient with me.

In all my readings, both fiction and non-fiction, that is what a threesome is for someone though. A third wheel type experience. More often than not there are two people who know each other intimately inviting a third into their fun. I’m not sure I’ve ever read a story where three strangers meet at a bar or social gathering and end up in a hotel room together. Though, now that I say that, I may have to write it, just so I can say it’s out there.

Kink of the Week logo

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

Selfish Thoughts

How do we balance what we do for ourselves as opposed to what is best for our partner/family/future?

Vanilla example:

I was approached this week by local law firm and offered a job. The increase in pay is amazing. I would have my own office (a career goal of mine) and a job title more in line with degree. I would be creating and managing records, and being allowed to make decisions. It could be a fantastic opportunity for me to not just be another nameless face in a company. But, the benefits aren’t as good as what we have now. I would be leaving possibly a more stable pension as well as dental and vision. The health care coverage wouldn’t cover as much of our mental health meds and the co-pays are higher.
So do I leave my current job, which isn’t a bad job, for something with higher pay and more opportunity for me? Or do I say as the benefits would be better for my family?
I’ll admit, as a submissive, I struggle with this. And it’s times like this that I see it come out in my non-kink life. I want my family to be happy. If I switch jobs, I may be happier, but if it’s at their expense, then I don’t want it. I thought if I took the job that I would take some of the money I received from Christmas and go buy a few new outfits. As soon as I thought it I immediately felt guilty for even thinking about spending money on myself.

Kink example:

Is being a submissive, in general, selfish? Now that I know that my husband doesn’t consider himself dominant it just seems selfish to pursue it. Especially since he’s be supportive of my relationship with Jack. My submission does make me happy, and I guess a happier me does affect my relationship with my husband and my kids. But is that enough? Should I just be happy with what I have?
I’m sure this can’t just be an issue for submissives, women, or mothers. I guess it just always seems to me that other people have a handle on it so much better than I do. Co-workers get their nails done or go shopping as a treat for themselves and not feel guilty. My mother bought herself a new car with her last promotion.
My submission is colliding with the vanilla part of my life this week. My husband is pushing me to very non-submissive actions. And the decision to switch jobs is becoming more complicated. I think I am playing over these thoughts a lot more than twice.
I need a drink.
Read about everyone else’s (probably sexier) posts about second thoughts today by clicking below.
Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings